


Softly Now

by masi



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-07 22:15:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4279899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masi/pseuds/masi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nebuya doesn't pay enough attention sometimes. Mibuchi tries to fix this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Softly Now

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pennyofthewild](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pennyofthewild/gifts).



> Happy birthday, Penny! Hope you like <3

Nebuya feels full and content as he walks towards his classroom. He just had a big breakfast, with extra servings of everything. He can still taste it, the white rice so plump and soaked with egg yolk, the salty twang of the miso soup, so light on his tongue, the gooey natto, and the sausage, crispy on the outside from over-frying and salty and thick inside. He washed it all down with three bottles of cold water, and now he’s ready for the day. 

His classes today are going to be easy, only review lessons for the upcoming final exams, and then it’ll be time for practice. He’s fired up for basketball already. His muscles are tensing in anticipation for the ache and sweet burn that comes from pushing himself to the limit, from reaching up and up, arms stretching towards the basket. Being, for a few seconds, on top of the world.

He is mimicking the motion with his hands when he accidentally walks into Mibuchi. 

Mibuchi gasps as he pitches forward, his elbow connecting with another student’s arm. His bag swings forward and hits the wall.

“Oh my, are you all right?” Mibuchi asks the student, before turning to frown at Nebuya and protesting, “Really! What are you doing? How difficult is it to watch where you’re going?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Nebuya says. He turns to the other student and says, “Sorry, my bad.”

The other student mutters a “whatever” and walks off, but Mibuchi sighs and says, “Sorry isn’t going to be enough this time, Eikichi! Look. Look at what you’ve done to poor Sakura-chan.”

Nebuya looks at the plastic cherry blossom hanging from Mibuchi’s bag. One of the petals seems a little bent, maybe. It could have been made that way. Mibuchi really needs to relax and focus on the important things, like eating more meat and developing his muscles more.

“Can’t you get another one?” Nebuya says. 

He thumps Mibuchi on the back as an apology. Mibuchi protests about this as well, calling him a “muscle gorilla.” Then he says, “Sei-chan gave this to me, you know? He brought it back from his last trip to Tokyo, and I promised to cherish it always.”

“Why is he giving you a touristy thing like that?”

“He probably had an extra after he bought some to send to that senpai of his who lives in California.” Mibuchi waves a hand. “But that’s not important. It’s not polite to look a gift horse in the mouth.”

Nebuya glances at the flower again and says, “Anyway, it looks fine to me! Hey, what did you bring for lunch?”

“We won’t be having lunch together,” Mibuchi says, loudly. 

He is frowning still, and Nebuya notices suddenly, looking a little paler than usual. His hair is lank this morning, not as soft and silky as usual. He must have been studying well past midnight, woke up late, and didn’t have time to shower in the morning. He isn’t as good at memorizing for exams as Nebuya is and needs those extra hours. 

Nebuya nods in what he hopes is an understanding manner. No wonder Mibuchi is in a bad mood. He had a bad night, and now he has a busy day and won’t be able to have lunch with his friends. He probably has to do something for the student committee he’s in, Health Services or something. People in those committees are always running around doing things. They skip lunch sometimes. It’s a rough life.

“We’ll talk during practice then,” Nebuya says.

Mibuchi makes a disgusted noise at the back of his throat, grabs hold of the strap of his bag, and walks past Nebuya, head held high, his shoulders a tense line.

Nebuya hears another student murmur, “One loss and the basketball team starts to fall apart.”

He isn’t sure who said that, so he yells into the crowd, “Hey, watch your mouth! We’re not falling apart! We’re gonna be winning all the tournaments as soon as April starts, you just watch!”

Mibuchi will probably feel better at practice, Nebuya thinks as he heads into his classroom. He will buy Mibuchi some snacks from the vending machines before practice.

***

At lunchtime, Nebuya is surprised to see that Mibuchi is not, in fact, busy doing work for his committee but is standing near the vending machines instead, surrounded by his flocks of admirers and calmly handing out shapely, thick, moist mochi. The mochi he always gives to his teammates first. The mochi that Nebuya loves.

“Mibuchi!” Nebuya roars, stepping into the crowd. “What’s going on here? You said you wouldn’t be eating lunch today! Why aren’t you sharing with me?”

“When did I say I wasn’t going to be eating lunch?” Mibuchi protests, as the fans quickly leave the area. “You need to pay more attention when people speak, Eikichi. I said _we_ weren’t going to be eating lunch _together_. There is a difference.”

Nebuya looks at the glass container in Mibuchi’s hands. There are flecks of rice flour dusting the bottom of the container. He feels like he has been betrayed.

“But you always give me at least one of your mochi,” he says. 

“Well, I haven’t today, and that’s that,” Mibuchi says. 

He places a green lid on top of the container. The lid is a beautiful, deep green, like Mibuchi’s eyes. When he presses down on the corners, the clicking sound echoes in the empty hall.

“Is this about the Winter Cup?” Nebuya asks. “But we all agreed during our meeting afterwards that everyone had played badly! Well, except Akashi. Anyway, we said we’d be better when basketball season starts again! Why are you getting mad now?”

“No, this isn’t about the Winter Cup,” Mibuchi says, tucking the container under his arm. “But, really, you’re not going to become a better player if you don’t change your behavior, Eikichi.”

“What do you mean by _change my behavior_?” Nebuya demands. 

He’s been told before – mostly by his parents, older brothers, and teachers – that he gets too loud and enthusiastic sometimes, but he’s definitely not as loud as some people he knows. For example, he’s nothing like Hayama, who regularly deafens people by simply breathing. 

Mibuchi says, “For starters, you could try to pay more attention to your surroundings. My body is still sore from this morning, because of you, and no, that is not a compliment. And poor Sakura-chan will never be the same.”

“How can you be sore from that?! And you’re still angry about that charm?”

“Who wouldn’t be?”

Nebuya considers apologizing again. He’s not that sorry about the charm, but Mibuchi is his friend. True, they get into arguments frequently, and Mibuchi gets too sensitive when confronted with natural bodily functions like burping and farting, but they’ve had good times together since they started playing basketball for Rakuzan High. They work out together, and swap class notes often, and hang out at yakiniku restaurants where Nebuya inhales meat as fast as he can while Mibuchi grills cabbage and tuts at him.

Also, apologizing is a good idea because they need to resolve their argument before practice. Akashi will be displeased if he finds out that they’ve been fighting, and he will deliver a long lecture in his soft voice about how disappointed he is. Nebuya hates those lectures.

Nebuya is about to apologize when his stomach growls. He remembers that he hasn’t had lunch yet. He had thought he would buy snacks for Mibuchi first, so he came out here, and now he’s getting stared down by his so-called friend.

Nebuya says, “Well, you haven’t been nice to me either! And, guess what, I don’t want your damn mochi! It probably tastes like rubber.”

Mibuchi gasps. Nebuya turns around and stomps back to his classroom. 

***

At the end of the school day, after he’s done with cleanup duty, Nebuya begins to regret his harsh words. This is usually the time when Mibuchi comes into the classroom, and they go to practice together. It’s quiet without him here, and the walk to the gym feels lonely, the hallways suddenly longer and filled with unfamiliar faces. 

Nebuya heads into the locker room, ready to both change and apologize. A quick glance around the place, however, tells him that Mibuchi isn’t here. 

Hayama is though, and he informs Nebuya, “Reo-nee wants you to know that he won’t be talking to you ever again, and that he’s going to be using hand gestures when you two have to communicate during a game.”

Nebuya feels a cold dread in the pit of his stomach. “This isn’t good,” he says. 

Hayama laughs. As they are entering the gym, he asks, “What’d you say to him, huh? I’ve never seen him that pissed off.”

“It was a mistake.” Nebuya sighs. “Today hasn’t been a great day.”

“The day’s not over yet!” Hayama grabs a basketball and spins it on his pointer finger. “Let’s go eat barbecue after practice! Your treat! Thanks, Ei-chan!”

“That doesn’t make me feel better in any way,” Nebuya says, watching Hayama run over to the center of the gym, where Mibuchi and Akashi are both holding clipboards and conferring about something.

He begins his warm-up routine, which doesn’t make him feel better either, even when he yells “Muscle Lunge!” and “Muscle Stretch!” to pump himself up. He can’t remember Mibuchi being this angry with him before. Mibuchi won’t look in his direction at all. 

He doesn’t get a chance to talk to Mibuchi until they have broken up into groups to practice shooting and blocking. 

“Mibuchi,” he begins immediately, “look, I’m sorry about what I said about the mochi. Your mochi, no, all of your sweets, are the-”

He is interrupted by a shout. He watches, confused, as a stray basketball zooms towards Mibuchi’s head. Then, valiantly, but gently, Nebuya pushes Mibuchi out of the way and lets the ball hit him instead.

***

“Eikichi.” 

Nebuya blinks a few times, trying to clear the stars floating in front of him, swimming in the harsh glare of the overhead lights. When Mibuchi enters his field of vision (the familiar dark hair and green eyes, the lovely long eyelashes, curling up so daintily), Nebuya is grateful. He reaches out and anchors himself by wrapping his hands around Mibuchi’s biceps. Mibuchi lets him.

“Really, Ei-chan,” Mibuchi is saying, sounding both exasperated and fond, “why didn’t you just tell me to move out of the way? Or catch the ball yourself? What kind of chivalry is this?”

“Reo-nee liked it though,” Hayama says in a loud whisper to Akashi.

“It’s nice to be attentive to the welfare of others,” Mibuchi says.

“Yeah,” Nebuya says. “I was paying attention to my surroundings.” 

“Are you alright?” Akashi asks, frowning. “Your eyes look a bit unfocused. Maybe you need to go the infirmary.” 

“Leave him to me, Sei-chan,” Mibuchi says. “We’ll just step outside for a bit. The fresh air will do him good.” He waves Akashi and Hayama off.

Nebuya follows Mibuchi outside and sits down on the nearest bench when MIbuchi points to it. He feels loads better already and doesn’t see why they have to go outside at all. This isn’t the first time he’s been hit by a basketball, more like the hundredth, and he wasn’t knocked down to the ground either.

“Can you see straight?” Mibuchi asks, holding a finger in front of Nebuya’s eyes. “Follow my finger with your eyes.”

“I’m fine, Mibuchi,” Nebuya says, but he doesn’t sound very confident to his own ears.

He looks at the finger and then at MIbuchi’s face, so close to his own. His heart is beating a little too fast, like it did when he was up against Kiyoshi towards the end of the Winter Cup Final, but there’s another sensation now too, an odd warmth spreading from his stomach to his face and toes.

“You’re breathing is a bit irregular.” Mibuchi touches Nebuya’s cheek and then traces a finger through his sideburns and beard. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Maybe not.”

“Would a kiss make you feel better?” Mibuchi asks, and smiles, so sweet and gentle and pretty.

“Yes,” Nebuya agrees and cups Mibuchi’s face in his hands.

Mibuchi presses a kiss against Nebuya’s lips and when Nebuya pulls him close for another one, Mibuchi kisses him again, for a longer moment and with a little tongue.

“We need to get back to practice,” Mibuchi says afterwards. 

He is as flushed as Nebuya feels. This makes Nebuya feel more comfortable, like things will be okay between them.

“Right,” Nebuya says, standing up. 

Mibuchi hasn’t moved towards the gym yet. He seems to be waiting for Nebuya to say something more, judging by the expectant look in his eyes and the slight pout of his mouth. 

Nebuya licks his lips. They taste like Mibuchi’s lip balm, cool and honey-sweet. He can still feel the press of Mibuchi’s mouth on his own. 

Just this morning, he would have laughed if someone said that he would be kissing Mibuchi at the end of the day. But things happen like this, sometimes, don’t they? He had picked up a basketball one afternoon when he was a kid, and then he just somehow started to play on a team, and now he’s here at Rakuzan, trying to be the best Center he can be. He wonders where this new thing with Mibuchi will take him. He is eager to find out. 

Nebuya asks, “Hey, can we do this again? After practice?”

Mibuchi says, arching an eyebrow, “Are you sure you don’t want to go out to eat after practice?”

“We can do both.”

“Oh, alright.” Mibuchi wrinkles his nose a little, but he’s smiling. “I guess I’ll have to buy you a pack of mints first.” 

“Or you could eat meat with me, and then you won’t notice the taste!” Nebuya pats Mibuchi on the back, and then, tentatively, touches the ends of Mibuchi’s hair.

“We’ll see,” Mibuchi says, and it sounds almost like a promise. 

Nebuya can’t wait for tonight.


End file.
